


Secretly

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Points of View
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-08
Updated: 2006-05-08
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Set anytime after the season finale of season 01. Brian made a promise to Justins mother to never see him again, and he's done just that. Justins POV.Synopsis:You should have been by yourself.





	Secretly

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: This is basically what would happen if Brian kept his word to Justins mother to stay away from him. Standalone.  


* * *

"I'm thankful for all of you, for having God watch over us and making sure that we're all safe and healthy and warm." I couldn't help snorting at my mother's outburst, as she clung onto the dining room table, swaying as she attempted to keep her drunken balance and raise her wine glass at the same time. She never got this drunk unless it was a special occassion and she certainly deserved to let her hair down on Thanksgiving, after spending an entire two days worrying about the meal. It was well appreciated and the plates were clean (however, me and my friends were not) and now they all sat haphazardly around the room, muttering thank yous and singing sailor-songs under their breaths. "I'm so thankful you're all there, because you boys..." On this note, she beamed at my friends who were chuckling at her display of affection and waved her hands around so her wine spilled onto the already stained table. "You boys are the best family I could have, and you mean the world to me, especially you Brian. I can't believe you came all this way to see us!" She squealed with delight, grabbing Brian by the shoulders and hugging him. She'd always had a soft spot for him because he was the real reason why he baby boy was still alive. Even if afterwards he'd lost touch with our relationship. He refused to see me, fuck me, kiss me.  


__

I've been biding my time, been so subtly kind,  
I've got to think so selfishly, 'cause you're the face inside of me.

  
  
"I want to say something too." Brian slurred, attempting to stand up but failing, since the alcohol had gone straight to his head and made his legs heavy as lead. He giggled, taking the rest of my beer with a wink and downing it before trying to get up again, leaning on Mikey for support. "I want to thank you all for being great friends to me, and not treating me like the cocky, vain arsehole that I am." We all chuckled. It was certainly not a comment we could deny. Brian knew he was gorgeous, and he played up to his looks as much as he could, if he knew he'd get what he wanted by doing so. "Debbie, you let me come and trash your house whenever I want and I'm such a bastard to you, you know, the way I treat you is so unfair and I'm sorry." Everybody still chuckled, because obviously, he was drunk and was rambling in that bumbling manner that Brian seemed to make charming. He was staring at me, staring at me with those fucking eyes that watched me all the time, even when I was asleep (that sketch of him hangs by my bed). He knew how I felt about him, everybody knew how I felt about Brian. It couldn't be anymore blearingly obvious that I adored everything about him. Hell, I pretended to be him most of the time. He frowned, staring at his hands for a moment, probably trying to work out what was going on inside his head.

After dinner we all roamed throughout my mothers house. Debbie, Ben and he were doing the dishes and cleaning up. Mikey, Hunter and Gus were sitting on the floor staring at a tv show and the rest were idly by, chatting.  
Brian staggers up to me and places a hand on my shoulder, probably for support on his buckling knees.  
"Another sucsessful Thanksgiving Sunshine!" He belts out and then leans in to whisper something I don't quite catch. "I missed this place.." he mumbles. "I missed you." His watering eyes are on mine. He stumbles and falls against me, apologizing for his state of unawareness.  
  
"It's okay." I said quietly, attempting to laugh. I was feeling the wine take effect on my head, and the blood rush to my cheeks. I wish he'd stop staring at me, as if he was burning away all the facade and could see exactly what I thinking, feeling, wanting to say but never could for the fear that I'd lose him as a friend.   


__

I've been biding my days, you see evidently it pays,  
I've been a friend, with unbiased views, then secretly lust after you.

  
  
"No, it's not. Because you're the only person who really gets me, and I'm so cruel to you sometimes. I brush you away when you get too close and I shouldn't. I mean, I love you." With that, he toppled back into his seat, giggling to himself. The silence that lasted only a moment in the room stabbed me hard in the chest, because I couldn't register what he meant by that. He'd said it so loud that everyone was in a state of silence, waiting for what I would do. I mean, after the bashing he barely saw me except when Debbie made Mother and I attend her little parties and dinners.  
  
"Brian...come with me." I said quietly to him when the buzz of dessert and beer had died down, and he jumped up in an instant, following me with a puzzled look.  
  
"What's up Justin? You don't want anymore booze?" He wrapped his arms around the back of my waist, resting his head on my shoulder and attempting to walk this way. It wasn't really working and I was being dragged into a room after a moment where he latched the door and pinned my figure between the door and him. I couldn't find my voice to tell him to fuck off since he was staring again. He shouldn't be allowed to look at people like that. Nor should be able to smirk and kiss me, and run his fingers down my sides, hitching my tshirt up so he could draw patterns on my skin. "I think I know what you want."  


__

So now you feel rusty; you're bored and bemused,  
You wanna do someone else, so you should be by yourself instead of here with me, secretly.

  
  
"No, you don't." I argued meekly, trying to hold back a moan that threatened to escape lips that quite desperately needed him near. "You're going to sober the fuck up, and explain to me what you said back there." He pulled me over to his bed by the waistband of my jeans, pushing me down and straddling my legs before I could really respond. Or rather, I could, but I didn't exactly want to. A hungry mouth caught my lips, and it burned, I swear it burned deep down inside when I had to push him away from me. He eyed me suspiciously, as if he wasn't sure what I'd do or say next. Not able to think of anything but the panic of having the man I loved in such close proximity, I opted for silence, and folded my arms across my chest.  
  
"I love you Justin, what's to explain about that?" There was alot wrong with that. He tried to prise my arms apart but I was having none of it, and snarled at every attempt with more contempt.   
  
"Brian, get the fuck off me." He didn't argue, and rolled off me, still staring, only now I could attempt to focus on the cracks in the ceiling rather than those eyes. "Sleep on it..." It was my excuse for shutting my eyes. It was my excuse for rolling on my side, away from him, away from his embrace and everything that I wanted. This was too much and it wasn't logical. Brian was just talking rubbish, as usual. He did this sometimes and if I let him sober up, his head would clear and he'd forget he'd ever said something so...false.  
  
"Stay here then?" I couldn't let him infiltrate my mind. I couldn't let my guard down. But I could never resist that angelic voice, and tried my best to shuffle away from him, closing my eyes and relaxing my body. I tried not to feel his arms hang lazily across my waist, or his breath circle my neck. Sleep was close, and in a strange way, my heart ached for the moment when I woke up and had to face him. To face the denial and the laughs and all the things I was oh-so-tired of. I wanted it to be true. I wanted him to truly care about me. I wanted this to be more than what it could ever be, and I knew I was kidding myself.   
  
"Justin?" I buried my face into the pillow, trying to ignore his plea, trying to ignore his scent and the warmth of his skin and the worry that tinged his accent. "Justin, I'm not tired..." He tried to repress a giggle but I heard it, and it was impossible not to smirk a little. His laugh was infectious, to say the least. "We'll sleep on it later." I half shrugged, still face-down on the bed, not trusting myself to look at him because all guard I had would fall immediately. "Justin, let me kiss you." Ignoring him was the best, but most painful option. He'd give up eventually. He'd fall into his usual drunked stupor and when he awoke, he'd barely remember this conversation. I was sure of it. "Justin, I won't ask you again." If I ignored him, that's exactly what he'll do; stop asking stupid questions, stop looking for pointless answers that he already knows.  
  
His fingertips were dancing up my chest, moving the material out of the way as they went. My breath shook and I cursed myself for showing him any sign that I wanted this. I hoped by keeping my head down, he'd get bored of these games, but his hands had a mind of their own and he had no intention of stopping. Soon they were fumbling with my belt buckle, his lips doing devilish things to my neck.   
  
"Brian, stop it. What happened to you never wanting to see me again? To telling everyone you never cared for me?" He growled in annoyance at such a question, flipping me onto my back and settling his thighs against mine. His hands darted up my chest, pulling my tshirt over my head. I could have stopped him if I wanted to. But I didn't. I couldn't possibly ask him to stop. I was his for the taking.  
  
"What about that?" He litttered kisses across my collarbone and down my chest, only stopping to look up at me for a moment, eyed heavy with lust. "They don't need to know." Maybe he was right. Maybe I could keep this as our dirty little secret.  


__

Trying hard to think pure, bloody hard when I'm raw,  
You're talking out so sexually about boys and girls and your friggin' dreams.

  
He sat on the edge of the bed, the moonlight highlighting the barely visible muscles which I could trace on his back. That is, if I wanted to. I teared my eyes away and stared at the ceiling. The sight made me nauseous.  
  
I wondered how long it'd take for him to regret it. A month maybe? No, a week perhaps. A day, an hour, a moment. Maybe he'd regret fucking me the moment he sobered up enough to realise what had just happened. Maybe he was already regretful; maybe he wanted to stop before he'd even started.  
  
"You're not going to tell them? What is this to you?" I wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement but I shook my head all the same. His smile faltered, and began focusing on the fastenings on his jeans, rather than my jaded expression and why it was so difficult to remove. "Justin...you know we can't...that I can't" He didn't need to waste his breath. He didn't need to waste anymore of my time with false promises and lies. I can't believe I fell for it, after all the times my heart had broken.  
  
It wasn't mendable this time. It had shattered into a million pieces; pieces that stabbed my lungs and made it difficult to breathe. I was flooding and it hurt. Fuck, it hurt so much. I didn't want to drown. Not like this.   
  
"Justin..don't look so..."  
  
"So what, Brian? So fucking heartbroken?" It was so pathetic, and so hopeless to even argue with him. "You say you love me then you...just forget it." He lowered his eyes, out of respect for the fact that I was about ten seconds away from tears. He sighed, and my heart ached a little bit more.  
  
"Justin, I do love you...but..."  
  
"Save it.You don't. You're just too piss-loaded to think." I blinked defiantly back salty tears that threatened to soak my cheeks. This was just like any other time, I told myself. There was no difference between now and any other day he'd marched into my life and stole my sanity. I had to take it back, once and for all, and quit playing these games. He had what he wanted. He'd took everything I had and he'd ruined it. In one simple moment, he's shattered any chance of me ever trusting him again. I couldn't have him around. I couldn't feel like this anymore. I needed out. If I couldn't have him to hold, I couldn't have him at all.   
  
He should have asked me to sleep on it. He should have held me and let me cry about it. But he didn't. Because you see, Brian Kinney didn't care about nobody but Brian Kinney. I should have known that by now.  
  
It didn't hurt at all to hear the door slam.   


__

So now you've been busted, you're caught feeling used.  
You had to do someone else, you should have been by yourself, instead of here with me...  
  
  
Secretly, secretly.


End file.
